"Okay, again!" Mira shouted, twirling her racket like a baton. "Bend your knees. Racket back. Ball toss straight—not into orbit. And please, Jomar… don't look like you're trying to kill a fly with a baseball bat."
Jomar stood across from her on the court, hunched slightly and drenched in concentration. He muttered something about 'this is harder than math', then tossed the ball.
Whack!
The tennis ball actually arced within the lines this time—barely. Mira blinked.
"Oh my gosh, you did it!" she gasped.
He stared at the court like he'd just cast his first spell. "That counts?!"
"YES! It counts!" she laughed. "It wasn't elegant, but it didn't fly into the volleyball court, and that's a win."
From the bleachers came clapping, mock cheers, and dramatic applause.
"LOOK AT THAT—THE POWER OF LOVE!" one of the senior girls cried out.
"Forbidden romance of a teacher and student!" another chimed in.
"Jomar-kun... Mira-sensei..." Coach Tonton whispered, dramatically clutching his chest like he was in a soap opera.
Mira groaned and threw her racket in the air—gently. "Y'ALL NEED TO SHUT UP!"
They only cackled louder. She turned back to Jomar, who was red to his ears and trying to look anywhere but her.
She exhaled. "Ignore them. They feed off chaos."
He nodded, but the awkwardness lingered in the way he scratched the back of his neck. Mira tried to refocus. There was still footwork to drill. Still so much he didn't know. She was the experienced one. She had to keep things on track.
She was his partner now.
After another thirty minutes of correcting his split steps and untangling his overexcited arm swings, they finally called it a day. Jomar jogged off toward the benches, smiling like he'd conquered Mount Everest with a tennis racket.
Mira stayed behind for a moment, bouncing a ball on her racket. One… two… three…
"The forbidden romance of teacher and student," they said.
She smirked. "As if."
One, two, three...
Her grin faded a little as her fingers slowed.
"But still..."
She remembered the way he had looked so focused today. Clumsy, sure. But determined. He asked questions, laughed when he messed up, and always tried again. He didn't complain even once—except when he got hit in the face by his own serve.
That was admittedly very funny.
She paused. The ball bounced off her racket and hit the clay court with a soft thud.
"Do I like him?"
It came out louder than intended. She glanced around—no one heard. Good.
"No, no. It's not like that. He's just... fun. And a quick learner. And easy to talk to. And smells like fabric softener."
Her nose scrunched. "Wait. What?"
She shook her head and picked the ball up.
"It's not a crush. Definitely not love at first serve. That's not a thing. This is just friendship."
"Budding, chaotic, fun friendship. With no complications."
She walked toward the benches where Jomar was now trying to stretch like a pro and almost fell over his own water bottle. She laughed.
"Okay, maybe a little complicated."